


Doused in mud, soaked in bleach

by Webtrinsic



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Not Canon Compliant, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Song Lyrics, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 16:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19890613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: The urge to run after the teen thinks he sees his inventors demise is strong, the problem is once he gives into the urge he can't stop.(Honestly just a small whump and writing style activity: but a good excuse for whump lol)





	Doused in mud, soaked in bleach

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly 'Come as you are' the cover by Civil twilight I'll take any day over the original.

Each step echoed throughout the twilight night of the forest. Twigs and branches slick with water after a heavy rainfall, barely crunching under the autumn air as the torn soles of the teen's suit broke the once brittle fallen leaves. Each breath was heavy, a pant, the air stealing any moisture making each pant follow with a rough cough. Pointed thickets and branches tore and slashed skin in a mad dash, cloth and blood painting the path being made by muddied footfalls.

Droplets of water roared down, bombs on a battlefield, obstructing sharp eyes and increasing the ever heightening thump and beat of a frantic heart. Webbing, not all artificial stuck to skin. Pain lacing in and out only to be ignored by the heady rush of adrenaline and fear.

Red and gold, blown away, unmoving, the sound of a ticking assisted heart disappearing. A battle seemingly won, at least to the spider. More than aware it wasn’t for the villains of the day, he needed to be torn too. To fall into empty beats, to bleed out, go still, unfeeling, disappearing.

He couldn’t allow that, he needed to live to the name and title he’d been so graciously gifted by the same man he’d failed to defend. Revenge rammed itself to the forefornt of his mind, his clenched fist tight in resistance.

_ Avenge!  _

Fight gone, legs sprinting, webbing all used. If Tony had failed how could he win? _Avenge, Avenge, Avenge._ The trees whispered, shouted, screamed and scratched. Pulled and pulled, untwined and unclipped, skin welted in anger.

_ Red, red, red, red, red, gold, gold, gold, pink, crimson, crimson, black. _

Chuffing, screaming, breathless, anguished cries fell upon the endless night sky obstructed by dying branches, bouncing the sound back to deafen the singular body and whatever possible wildlife nearby.

The pit of his lean stomach had dropped long ago, wavering in an obnoxious nausea as each ounce of pressure each sawing foot imbedded into the earth sent itself back up. Bones grinding, searing in tilted vibrations. 

Lungs cramping, barely inflating, a push and pull. Tug of war being so obviously lost, the larger player in the back having been lost meaning the although strong but inexperienced player was being pulled right into the dirt.

The rope burn scorching small hands, eyes producing tears that lashed against supple skin in the tight space between a red identity, branding his sorrows to the core of both for the world to see.

The area’s reeking scent of petrichor bouncing, the blood seeping into the air to form its own redolent. It more disorienting, susurrus to even his ears when it shouldn’t have made at sound. Sight, sound, sense, whirred on an uneven ground. Mixing, congealing, demanding an attention which couldn’t be given.

Moving without feeling, well oiled, restless, no destination in sight, the urge to stomp continued. Taking and taking any sense of reason, rationality, as if he could not only run away from what had just happened but the feelings that came with it.

Strained functions ceased under the cracked decay of a branch worming itself around a thin ankle, sending the teen flying. Mask and body embedding itself in mud, it grabbing to meet him and pull him in. 

Limbs heavy, uncooperative, begging, pleading, seducing him to stop their struggle even when the real fight for obedience hadn’t started. Carnal orders preened, the instinctual resignation to curl up and die welcoming itself to his brain. Comforting, far from crude, it’s temptation so mouth watering the spider followed eagerly, legs moving to pull up to his chest as he rolled onto his side.

A feminine voice deaf to him, having been so easy to ignore after the crash and had seemingly disappeared with everything else until now. The pronounced syllables not threading into real words in the spiders mind.

Noxious air tinged with ice seeped further down to the ground, coating the lithe body, AI cursing out terrified as she tried to warm him up to no avail. Her promises of, “Tony’s alive I promise!” did nothing to destroy the mindscape of loss the teen had lost himself too.

Brown eyes red rimmed with tears, stared off from beneath his mask, a muddied puddle, broken twigs and once orange leaves painting themselves before him in anything but focus. The wind bristling the water, its ripples only making the land fuzzier.

A waft, a fan, a yawn, the teen’s eyelashes fluttered. Growing heavy, blinding him as they closed. The fight having been lost.

\---

Pain, a skip in beats, his heart straining as it settled with the help of the blue glowing beacon in his chest. The enemy singing, celebrating in an ecstasy Tony knew well after his own victories. 

A spark, a fury pulled in the Avengers gut. He could hear no more commotion from the kid he’d brought to help him fight, just the cheers of the villains. Lifting his head, a horrendous task it seemed had him wince.  Teeth gritted together as his temples throbbed, veins bulging as panic set in. Fearing he’d see the red clad body beside him or on the ground elsewhere, but the kid was no where in sight. 

“Fri?”

“Yes sir?” her now staticky voice replied, garbled as his thruster began to come back online.

“The kid,” the words were gruelling, guttural, the command clear.

“I’m sorry I can’t seem to pick up on his location, I am in contact with Karen. She’s saying he’s in the midst of what appears to be a mental breakdown, overall unresponsive to her prompting, she’s unable to catalogue his injuries and cannot use a majority of her functions.”

The tech in his suit trembled as it sutured itself and the suit back into working order, Tony menacingly rising back into the air. The cheering group of villains going quiet, aghast at his liveliness.  Spooked as if they were looking at a ghost, or something more. 

“Where is Spider-Man?”

\---

The billionaire stared down at the small form wrapped in white, seemingly so small and delicate. Helpless. So much so Tony wanted to berate himself for ever making the suit because Peter was a child who deserved to be coddled and loved. 

If there was any reason for Tony to be a hero, it was because of people like Peter. Maybe even the boy specifically because even if Peter hadn’t been a hero he was sure their brilliant minds would find each other.

The kid was destined to do great things, and who was he to pass that up?

The younger hadn’t woken up in three days, three days where the inventor washed and configured his suit until it was functioning properly again. Albeit even better, sturdier than before. Kevlar in the fabric. Less likely to tear.

He hadn’t been prepared for the teen to wake up, positively terrified, confused, unbelieving.

“No no no, I heard it, you died!” The kids face was buried in his hands as he sobbed, and as much as Tony wanted to get closer and prove he was really here. A scared and delusional Peter was the equivalent to swimming with a shark in the water after you’ve been beat to hell.

“I’m alright Pete, just skipped a beat. That’s all,” Tony tried desperately to assure, “You can hear it now can’t you?” the question was soft, the inventor putting as much effort as he could to make sure he came off as encouraging and caring as possible.

The teen after some time nodded, and Tony took the chance to come closer. Sitting on the bed causing it to indent, the kid already sitting up startled him by simply falling forward. Tipping into his side, head resting on his shoulder.  The inventor could feel as the boy’s hand wrapped around the bottom of his shirt, holding on. 

“You scared me,” Tony felt more than heard as the boy murmured into his shoulder. 

“You scared me too kid,” Wrapping his arms around the teen, Tony let himself calm down now that he was sure everything was okay. Peter was awake, patched up, and had acknowledged he was in fact alive.

Peter looked up at that, looking at him almost confused. Eyes asking him, “How?”

“When I got up after they knocked me down, you weren’t there,” Peter quivered as he heard the shuttering softness in the man’s tone at those last three words. Fear still there and very much palpable. 

“Friday told me you weren’t doing too good. Both mentally and physically, she couldn’t help you and that meant I couldn’t either. When I finally found you...you were so cold, barely breathing. Disinfecting you took the medics nearly four hours, and I still couldn’t help-”

_“Doused in mud, soaked in bleach,”_ Tony heard the teen whisper to himself. He knew the song.

“Yeah kid, except I’d rather you not be,” 

Peter looked up at him again at that.

“You know because it says ‘ _As I want you to be?’_ because god kid with how the antiseptic and dirt smell, I’d prefer you after a shower or something,” Tony explained with a smile in hopes of lightening the mood.

Luckily it seemed to work because the boy returned the smile. A small laugh bubbling from his lips before the kid was grinning from ear to ear in a fit.

“Alright alright, calm down kiddo,” 

With one last little wheeze the boy stopped, eyes fluttering, his body sagging back against the inventor. So exhausted and small, and Tony didn’t even realize he’d pressed a kiss to the crown of the boy’s head.  Arms securing him to his chest, holding him oh so tightly. The warmth that came off the small body now was a pleasant change to the cold barely breathing form he’d come across in the woods. 

Curled up as if he was making himself smaller than he already was. His suit torn and bloodied, skin peaking through rubbed and raw. Dirt and mud caking those wounds, the cool night air puffing lightly around the mask where the teen breathed.

Such small pants for a minute Tony had to question if the kid was even breathing, with how still and curled the boy was he could barely even see the minute rise and fall. He didn’t see it as he pulled the teen into his arms or as they flew off but Friday assured him that it was there.

He hadn’t lost the boy, he hadn’t lost someone he’d began to see as his own. Peter Parker as far as Tony was concerned was his family. He dared the world to tell them otherwise, blood or not they were family.

Tony could see that now, in those moments when they were lost to each other, they’d been under the impression that their world had ended with the other. Tony couldn’t mistake that feeling for anything less than love.

“I love you kid,”

“I love you too Mr. Stark,”


End file.
